The setting sun was staining the far reaches of the plain, it's hue was closer to blood than orange. The wind snarled like a beast across the barren sky. On the narrow road that cut through a sea of grass, high enough to hide a man's legs, the lobe horse and rider ceased their advance as if forestalled by the wall of wind gusting straight at them.
The road rose a bit some sixty feet ahead. Once they'd reach that point, they would be able to survey the rows of houses and sections of farmlands that compromised Sitka, just another district in the Frontier sector.
At the foot of that gentle slope stood a girl.
The horse had likely been startled by her appearance and stopped. She was a beautiful young woman, with large brown eyes that seemed a light. Somewhat tanned, she had her black hair tied back. An untamed aura, unique to all things living in the wild, emanated from every inch of her. Any man who laid eyes on her, with her gorgeous looks would undoubtedly draw his attention to her. She was concealed to the ankles by an ash - gray material of a waterproof cape. Except perhaps for her snug leather sandals and what seems to be a coiled black whip in her right hand, she wore no necklace or any form of jewelry that would give her a feminine look.
An old-fashioned cyborg horse lingered at the girls side. Until a few minutes earlier, the girl had been lying at its feet. Woman of the wild or not, the fact that she noticed a horse and rider, not running but approaching silently admit the kind of howling wind that would leave others covering their ears, and that she stood her ground meant the girl probably wasn't some farmers wife or a daughter of a pioneer.
Having stopped briefly, the horse soon began walking forward. Perhaps realizing the girl wasn't going to get out of the road, it stopped again some twenty feet shy of her.
For a while there was nothing but the sound of the wind racing along the ground. In due time the girl opened her mouth to speak. "I take it you're a drifter. You a hunter?" Her tone was defiant and full of daring, and yet also a touch of warmth.
The rider sat on his horse but made no answer. She couldn't see his face very well because he had a wide brimmed traveller's hat low over his eyes and was covered from the nose down by a scarf. Judging from his powerful frame and the combat belt, half revealed from his faded black long coat, it was safe to say he was no seasonal laborer or merchant dealing with scattered villages. A red pendant hanging just below his scarf reflected the girls shocked expression. Her large eyes fixed on the long sword strapped to his back. Having a elegant arc quite different from the other blades used by many other hunters, it spoke of the vast expanse of time and space it's owner had traveled. Surprised by the lack of response, the girl shouted. "That sword for show? If so, I'll take it off you to sell down at the next open market. Set er down!"
As if to say that didn't get an answer out of him then the time for talking is done, the girl took one step back with her right leg and crouched in preparation. The hand with the whip slowly rose to her side.
The rider responded for the first time. "What do you want?"
The girl's expression was one of amazement. Though the voice of her opponent was low, she could barely pick it out under the howling wind, it sounded like the voice of a eighteen year old.
"What the hell - you're just a kid! Well, I'm still not gonna show you mercy. Show me what you've got."
"So you're a bandit then? You're awfully forthcoming for one."
"You dolt! If I'm looking for easy money, you think I'd go after a lousy drifter like you? I wanna see how good you are!" The wind shot with a sharp snap. The girl cracked her whip. It didn't look like she was doing any more than playing it out lightly with her wrist, but the whip twisted time and time again like an ominous black serpent in the light of the setting sun. "Here I come! If you fancy some good eatin in the village of Sitka, you'll have to go through me first."
The youth remained motionless atop his mount. He didn't reach for his sword or for anything in the matter. What's more, when the girl saw how nonchalant he remained when challenged to battle by a good looking lady who gave no reasons but showered him with a murderous gaze, a tinge of concentration rushed back into her expression. Letting out a breath, the girl struck with her whip. The weapon was made from intertwined bristles tanned over several long months with application of animal fat. A direct hit from it would cut flesh.
"What the?..."
The girl kept back, her expression changed. Her whip was supposed to strike the youths left shoulder but for some reason, just at the instant she saw it hit him, the whip changed direction and shot instead for her own left shoulder. The youth had reversed the direction of the whip without the slightest injury to himself and turned the attack back upon its source. To grasp the speed and angle of the whip striking so fast it escaped the naked eye, and to have the reflexes to do something about it, was something that defied description.
"Damn. You're good!"
Worked by her right hand, the whip did not strike her shoulder but danced back through thin air, yet the girl stood rooted to the spot and made no attempt at a second attack. She realized his fighting skills were as high above hers as the heavens were over earth.
"Out of my way, please." the youth said as if nothing happened.
The girl nodded and stepped aside.
The youth and his horse passed by her side, but when they'd gone a few steps more, the girl once again stepped into the road and shouted, "Hey, look at me!"
The instant the youth turned around, the girl grabbed her cape with her left hand and pulled it off in one single motion.
For a moment, the glow of Twilight seemed to lose its red hue.
Clad in not a single stitch, a naked form so celestial none say the goddess Venus herself could have fashioned it glittered in the breeze. At the same time, the girl extended her other hand and undid her hair. Her luxurious hair flowed in the wind. Her nakedness alone had been beautiful, but this was truly enchanting. The wind twisted around, bearing nothing but the scent of a woman in her greatest age.
"Let's try this again!"
Once more her whip cracked.
Through some masterful handling, the single tip whistling toward the youth split into eight parts just as it was about to strike. Each tip has a separate target, coiling around his neck, shoulders, arms, and chest with slightly different timing, making a hit much more difficult to avoid than if all struck at once.
"You sure fell for that one," the girl laughed. "That's what you get for letting a little nudity distract you." She hollered the words, conceding nothing to the snarling wind. And the, almost disappointed, she suddenly added, "You're the ninth. Looks like I'm out of luck after all. How do you wanna play this? You drop the weapon you've got on your back and ones around your waist and I'll undo you in no time."
The reply she received was totally unexpected. "And if I said I won't?"
The girl became angered. "Then you get your choice of how I knock you out. Either I strangle you or drag you to the ground. So, which is your fancy?"
"Neither appeal to me."
With his words as her signal to start, the girl concentrated all her might into her right hand. Her power cursed down the whip to the tips, trying to send the youth sailing through the air. But it didn't. In fact, all either loops passed through the youth's body without losing their circular form.
"What the---?"
More dumbfounded then surprised, the girl stood rooted and dazed. After all, here was an opponent who had beaten an attack that incorporated every bit of skill she possessed without so much as lifting a hand.
The youths mount started to walk away calmly.
Though she remained in her absent-minded stupor for a bit, the girl wrapped her fallen cape around herself and scrambled after the youth with speed that was hard to believe from such a body as hers. "Hold up. I apologize for that craziness just now. I'd like to you to hear me out. I just knew you were a hunter. But I'm guessing you are a Darkmoon."
The youth finally turned his eyes to the girl.
"I am right aren't I? You are a hunter and I wanna hire you!"
The horse stopped.
"That's nothing to joke about," the youth said softly.
"I know, I know. But I need some kind of hunter. And I'm well aware what fearsome opponents the Darkmoon fight . Even though one hunter out of a few thousand can be a Darkmoon, your chances of beating everything is still fifty fifty right? I know all that. My father was as hunter too.:
A slight emotion stirred in the youth's eyes. With one hand he pushed back the brim of his hat. Long and thin and cold, his dark eyes were quite clear.
"What kind?"
"Werewolf."
"I see, so that's where you get that trick with the whip," he murmured. "I'd heard all of the Hollowed in these parts were all killed off in during the Cleansing War. Of course, that was many years back, so we can't put much trust in that. So, you want to hire me? I take it someone in your family or one of your friends has been attacked. How many times have they been preyed upon?"
"Just once, so far anyway."
"Is the mark of a burn or a scar?"
The girl hesitated for an instant, then laid her hand on a glove covering her left hand. "See for yourself."
The wind cried of wild beasts streamed like banners across the darkening sky.
On her left hand right in the center of her palm was the changing burn mark that was switching shapes upon her hand.
The youth tugged down the scarf shielding his face. "Judging by that wound, it's of a Hollow of a strong power. It's surprising you are still sane." His last remark was a compliment to the girl. The reactions of people who had been trapped in a Hollows spell varied with the level of the attacker, but in most cases the victims became a crazed psychopath, with whatever sanity sucked out of them. Their skin lost its tone and begins to dust away, and the victim would lay in the dark day after day with a vacant but yet crazed look. To escape that fate , one needed extraordinary strength of spirit and body. And this girl was the very exception.
However, at the moment wore the dream like expression of the average victim.
She had lost herself in the beauty of the unmasked youth, with his thick masculine eyebrows, smooth bridge of a nose, and tightly drawn lips that manifested the iron strength of his will. Set amid stern features shared only by those who had come through the numerous battles of a grief ridden world, but his eyes harbored sorrow even as they sparkled. The final touch made this crystallized beauty the image of youth chiseled, as it were, by nature itself, perfect and complete. Nevertheless, the girl was shaken back to her senses by something vaguely ominous lurking in the depths of his gaze. It sent a chill creeping down her spine giving her a head a shake, the girl asked, "So how about it? Will you come with me?"
"You said you were knowledgeable about hunters. Are you also aware of the fees they require?"
Scarlet tinged the girl's cheeks. "uh, yeah..."
"And your offer being?"
The more powerful the supernatural beast and monsters a hunter was in, the more expensive their fees. Hollows being the greatest threat, are paid no less than 5,000$ a day. "three meals a day," the girl said, as if she'd just settled on it.
The youth said nothing.
"Plus..."
"Plus what?"
"Me. To do with me as you please."
A faint smile played across the youth's lips, as if mocking her.
"The entrapment of a Hollow is probably more preferable to being bedded with the likes of me."
"The hell it is!" Suddenly tears glittered in her eyes. "if it comes down to that or becoming a toy for a Hollow, I have no problem with someone having their way with me. That doesn't have anything to do with a person's worth anyway. But if you must know I'm... no, forget that. It doesn't matter. So how about it? Will you come with me?"
Watching the girl's face for a while as anger and sorrow turned together, the youth quietly nodded. "Very well then. But in return I want to be clear on one thing."
"What? Just name it."
"I'm a Kiln.."
The girls face froze. This gorgeous man couldn't be... but come to think of it, he was too gorgeous.
"Is that okay? If you wait a while longer another hunter will come along. You don't have to do this."
Swallowing the sour spit that filled her mouth, the girl offered a hand to the youth. She attempted a smile, but it came out stiff.
"Glad to have you. I'm Katherine Dutter."
The youth didn't shake her hand. Just as expressionless and emotionless as when he first appeared, he said, "Call me Osiris."
躕
Katherine's home was at the base of a hill about thirty minutes from where the pair happened to meet. The two of them rode at a fast pace and arrived there in less then twenty minutes. The second she wrapped up her conversation with Osiris, Katherine put the spurs to her horse, as of pushed by some strange power. Almost all dangerous creatures waited until complete darkness fell before they became active. There wasn't a case to be in such hurry, but Osiris remained silent and followed his attractive employer.
Her home was a farm surrounded by prairies that were most likely permanently fertile by the Great Earth Restoration Project many years before. At the center was the main house. Constructed of wood and plastics, the house was surrounded by scattered table, animal pens, and protein synthesizing vegetation in orchards consisting mainly of thermo-regulators fastened to reinforces sheets of waterproof material. The orchard alone covered five acres, and second-hand robots were responsible for harvesting the things produced there hauling it away was the job of the humans.
When Katherine had tethered her horse to the pole in front of the house, the reason for her hasty return threw the door open and bounded out.
"Welcome home," a rosy cheeked boy of eight called down from the lofty porch. He hugged an antique laser rifle to his chest.
"This is my little brother Anri," Katherine said to Osiris by way of introduction, and then in a gentle voice she asked, "nothing out of the ordinary while I was gone, was there? Those mist devils didn't come back now, did they?"
"Not at all," the boy replied, throwing his chest triumphantly. "Don't forget, I blasted four of the buggers just the other day. They're so scared they wouldn't dare come back again. But just supposing they do, I'll fry em to a crisp with this baby here." That said, his expression suddenly grew angry. "Oh, I almost forgot ... that guy Patches came by again. Carrying some bunch of flowers he says had sent all the way from the Capital. He left em here and asked me pass them along to my lovely sister when she gets home."
"So what happened to the flowers?" Katherine asked with an obvious interest.
The boy's mouth twisted into a delighted grin.
"Chopped em up in the disposal unit, mixed in some compost and fed it to the cows."
Katherine gave a deep satisfied nod. "Good job. Today is a big day. We've got some company as well."
The boy, who had been sneaking peaks at Osiris even as he spoke with his sister, now smiled knowingly at her. "Say, he's a looker, isn't he? So this is how you like em eh sis? You said the robots were in such lousy shape you were going out to look for someone to replace them, but it looks to me like you went out hunting for a man."
Katherine's blushed bright red. "Oh don't be ridiculous. Don't talk that foolishness. This is Mr. Osiris. He will be helping us out around the farm for a while. Just don't be getting in his way now."
"There is nothing to be bashful about," the boy chuckled. "I know, I know. One eyeful of him would, and old Greco don't look much better then a man eating frog. I like him a lot better too. Please to meet you Osiris.
"The pleasure is mine Anri."
Showing no signs of being bothered by the emotionless tone Osiris used even when addressing the child, the boy disappeared into the main house. The pair followed him inside.
躕
"I'm sorry, he must have really gotten on your nerves," Katherine said in an apologetic tone when dinner was finished and she had finally managed to send Anri off to bed, ignoring the protests that he wasn't sleepy yet.
Osiris passed the sword he normally wore on his back from his right hand to his left as he stood at the window gazing at the darkness beyond. Thanks to the clear weather that had persisted the past four or five days, the solar batteries on the roof were well charged and glittering light showered generously on every corner of the room from the lighting panels in the ceiling.
Apparently there was something about the inhospitable stranger the boy liked, and he'd planted himself by the man's side and wouldn't leave, imploring him to talk about the capital, or to tell him about any monsters or supernatural creatures he may have slain throughout his travels. Then, to top it off, he created quite a commotion when he and his sister were being a pest and grabbed Osiris by the arm to try and bring him back to the room where they could talk man to man all night.
"You see, he gets like that because travelers are so rare. And we don't usually have much to do with the town either."
"It doesn't bother me. I take no offense in being admired."
As he spoke, he made no attempt to look at Katherine sitting on the sofa, wearing the shirt and jeans she'd changed into earlier. His tone was as cold as ever. Closing his eyes lightly, he said, "It's just now nine thirty in the Frontier Standard Time. Since it has already entrapped on a person, I don't imagine it'll be in that much of a hurry, so I suppose that after midnight will be the time to watch. In the meantime, could you tell me everything you know about this Hollow? Don't worry, your brother is already asleep. I can tell by his steady breathing."
Katherine's eyes went wide, "You can hear something like that through the door and everything?"
"And the voice of the wind across the wilderness, and the vengeful song of spirits wandering from the shadows," Osiris murmured, then came to stand by Katherine's side with the smooth strides of a dancer.
When she felt something cold looking down at the ever changing mark on her hand, "Stop!" and pulled away without thinking.
Though the abhorrence was evident in her voice, her expression didn't change in the least. "I'm just going to have a look at your wounds. To get a general idea on how powerful this Hollow truly is."
"I'm sorry. Go ahead and take a look," she put her hand in front making the scars visible. Even if the slight trembling of her lips was a remnant of her reaction seconds earlier, the redness of her cheeks was caused, no doubt, by the embarrassment of a virgin having her flesh looked at by a wholly unfamiliar young man. After all, in her seventeen years, she hadn't so much as held a boy's hand before.
Seconds later, Osiris' expression had a distant air to it. "When did you run into him?"
Katherine breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of his voice, which was entirely without cadence. But why was her foolish heart pounding so much? Unaffected by her racing pulse, and gazing quickly at Osiris' face all the while, she began to recount the tale of the terrible night in the most composed tone she could muster.
"It was five days ago. I was chasing a lesser dragon that'd slipped onto the farm while we were fixing the electromagnetic barrier that killed one of our cows, and when I finally thought I'd finished it off, it was already pitch-black outside. To make matters worse, it was near his land. I was all set to hightail it home when what should happen but the dying beast spits fire and burns the back half of my horse to a cinder. I'm thirty miles away from home, and the only weapons I had was a spear I used to hunt the lesser dragon and a dagger. I ran as fast as I could. I must have run for a good thirty minutes when I noticed something, like there was something running along behind me!"
Katherine suddenly fell silent, not only because the memory of that terror had become fresh again, but also because a fiendish howl had just pierced the darkness from somewhere very close. The breath was knocked out of her as she turned her beautiful face in that direction, but soon enough she realized it was the sound of a wild animal. Her expression became one of relief. Though rather dated, an electromagnet barrier that had cost them a pretty penny sealed the perimeter of the farm, and within it they had a variety of missiles weapons set up.
She assumed the account of her horrid experience. "At first I thought it was a werewolf or something else. But there was no sound of footsteps or any noise for the matter, hell I couldn't even hear the thing breathing. Yet for some reason i just knew something was behind me, no more than a foot away, and moving at exactly the same speed I was. I finally couldn't take it anymore and I whipped around--there was nothing there! Well, there was for a fraction of a second, but then it circled around behind me again."
Memory was showing terror across her face. She gnawed her lip and tried to force her trembling voice out. Osiris said nothing, but remained listening.
"That's when I started shouting. I told whoever it was to stop hiding from me and come out that instant. And when I'd said that, out he came, dressed in a black cape with a grey hood and gloves with some fiery tint coming from them, just like we always hear. When I saw the mist slowly fall from his gloves, I knew it had to be. After that, it's the same old story. I got my spear ready, but then he held out his hand and all the strength drained from my body. Not that it mattered much, because when the flames began to move towards me I felt cold and lifeless, my mind just went blank. The next thing I knew it was daybreak and I was laying out in a prairie with a marking on my palm. That's why I've been down at the base of that hill every day since, morning till night, looking for someone like you." Her emotional tale over at last, Katherine slumped back onto the sofa exhausted.
"And he hasn't drained you since?"
"That's right. Though I do wait up for him every night with a weapon ready."
Osiris eyes narrowed at her attempt at sounding secure, "If we are merely dealing with a power hungry Hollow, he would be coming every night. But, you see, the greater the interest they take in the victim, the longer the interval between attacks so they can prolong the the pleasure of draining. But the act that is has been five days is incredible. It seems he's extremely taken to you."
"Spare me the damn comments!" Katherine cried. No trace of the spitfire who had challenged Osiris to battle at twilight remained now. She sat there, a lovely seventeen year old girl trembling in fear.
As Osiris surveyed her coolly, he added words that made the hair on her neck stand higher. "The average interval between attacks is three to four days. More than five is extremely rare. He'll come tonight without a doubt. From what I can tell from your marking, he is quite powerful, well as Frontier Hollow's go. You said something about 'his land'. His identity wasn't clear to you was it?"
Katherine gave a little nod. "He has been the owner over this region long before there was any village named Sitka. His name was lost to time, we call him Nito. I've heard some say that he is hundreds of years old, while others say he is tens of thousands years old."
"That old eh? The powers of a Hollow grow with each passing year. He is most likely a troubling adversary," Osiris said, though his tone didn't sound particularly troubled.
"The powers of a Hollow? You mean things like the power to whip a girl with a wave of the arm, or being able to drive anyone into madness just by looking at them?"
Ignoring Katherine's query, Osiris said, "There's one last thing I need to ask you. How does this village handle people when they have been marked by a Hollow?"
The girls face went pale instantly.
In many cases those who'd felt the madness of a mark from a Hollow were isolated in their respective village or town while arrangements were to destroy the culprit, but if they were simply unable to defeat the Hollow, the victim would be driven from town or, in the worst cases, be disposed of. This was the custom because a dark fiend, crazed with rage at not being able to feel the enjoyment of crazing a victim of choice, would attack anyone it could gets its power on. More towns and villages than anyone could count have been wiped out just for that reason. Sitka had similar policies in effect. That was the reason Katherine hadn't asked anyone else for help, but had privately sought a hunter. Her failure to confide in her brother was for fear that his conduct might tip off the villagers if they happened to go into town. Had she no younger brother to consider, she'd surely go after the Hollow on her own, or done away with herself.
Hollow's dealt with their victims in one of two ways. Either they drained all their soul through one sitting turning them into a mere corpse, or through multiple sittings which turns them into a lesser companion. The key point in the latter was not the number of times the Hollow crazed the victim but rather something Osiris had touched on earlier. Whether or not the Hollow took a liking to its victim. Sometimes a person joined their ranks after a single draining. And it went without saying that those transformed into Hollow had to be their destiny as detestable demons, living in eternal darkness. For Katherine, and for every other person in this world, that was true terror.
"Everywhere it's the same, isn't it," Osiris muttered. "Accursed demons, ghouls from the darkness, blood crazed demons. Branded once and you'll become one. Well, let them say they will. Stand up please," he said to Katherine, who was caught off guard by the remark meant to her. "It looks the guest we were expecting has come. Let me see the remote control for your electromagnetic barrier."
"What, he's already here? You just said he'd be here after midnight."
"I am surprised too."
But he didn't look it in the least bit.
躕
Katherine came back from her bedroom with the remote control and then handed it to Osiris.
In order to keep all kinds of strange visitors from sneaking onto the farm while both Dutter children were away, they had to have some way to erect the force field from the outside. Acquired secondhand off a black market in the capital shortly after their father's death fours years ago, the barrier was their greatest treasure except, of course, for the rare occasions when it broke down. Their loses to the wraiths and rabid beasts that wandered the night were far less than those of other homes in the district, to be more exact their losses were practically nonexistent. But the purchase came with a price. After they bought it, they were left with less than a third of their father's life savings.
"How are you gonna fight him?" Katherine asked. It was a question that sprung from the mixed blood flowing in her veins. The fighting techniques of Darkmoon, who are the most rare even among the capital, were rumored to be gruesome and magnificent, but almost no one had ever witnessed them first hand. Katherine herself had only heard of them in tales. And the youth before her now was completely different from the rustic Kiln image conjured up from those stories.
"You should see for yourself, and I wish I could let you, but I need you to go sleep."
"What--?"
The youths right hand touched Katherine's right shoulder, which was taut with swells of muscle while still retaining some delicacy. Whatever the technique or power he now employed, as soon as Katherine noticed the fighting cold charge cursing through her body from her shoulder, she lost consciousness. But just before she did, she glimpsed something eerie in the palm of Osiris' left hand, or at least she believed she did. She thought she saw something small, or a color and shape she couldn't discern.
Apparently confident in the efficacy of his actions, Osiris didn't even bother to check if Katherine was actually unconscious before leaving the room with his sword over his shoulder. The reason he'd put her to sleep was to prevent her from interfering in the battle that was about to begin. No matter how firm their resolve, anyone who has the mark of a Hollow couldn't help but heed its commands. Many hunters who had been shot from behind or had their hearts pierced by the very person they sought to save from the curse. To guard against that, veterans would give the client a sedative or confine them in portable iron cages. But the extraordinary skill Osiris displayed with his left hand would have been viewed, even by the strongest of hunters, as impossible in all but dreams cast in Fair Folk.
Once out in the hall, Osiris opened the door to Anri's room. The boy snored peacefully, oblivious to the deadly duel that was about to happen. Quietly shutting the door, Osiris slipped through the front hall and down the porch steps onto the pitch black earth. No trace of midday heat remained now. The green grass swayed in a chilled and pleasant night breeze.
It was a around September. It was to the great credit of the Revolutionary Army that they hadn't destroyed the dozen weather controllers beneath the seven continents. If not by day then at least by night the most comfortable levels of heat and humidity for both the monsters and humans were maintained all year round. There were, however, still the occasional violent thunderstorms or blizzards, written into the controller's program by some of the highest ranked Hollows to recreate the unpredictable seasons of yore.
With a graceful stride that was a dance with the breeze, Osiris passed through the gate in the fence and went another ten feet before coming to a stop. Before long there came from the depths of the darkness, from the far reaches of the plain, the sound of horses hooves and wagon wheels were approaching. Could it be that Osiris' had heard them even as he was talking with the young lady in the distant room?
A group of four horses and a carriage so black it seemed lacquered with midnight appeared in the moonlight and halted about fifteen feet ahead of Osiris. The beautifully groomed black beasts were most likely cyborg horses.
A man in a black cape was seated in the coachman's seat, scrutinizing Osiris with glittering eyes. The black whip in his right hand reflected the moonlight. By the light of the moon alone could make out a touch of beast like in his face and appearance.
The man quickly alighted from the driver's seat. His whole body was like a coiled spring, he even moved like a beast. Before he could reach for the passenger door, the silver handle turned and the door opened from the inside. A deep chill and stench of blood suddenly shrouded the refreshing breeze. As Osiris caught a glimpse of the figure stepping down from the carriage the slightest hue of emotion stirred in her eyes. "A woman?"
Her dazzling golden hair looked like it would creep along the ground behind her. If Katherine was the embodiment of a sunflower, then this woman could only be compared to a moon flower. Her snow white dress of medieval styling was bound tight at her waist, spreading in bountiful curves reaching the ground. The dress was certainly lovely, but it was the pale beauty unique to the Hollows that made the young lady seem an unearthly illusion, sparkling as she did like a dream in a shower of moonlight. But the illusion reeked of blood. The flames of a nightmare crackled in her sea blue eyes, and her beckoning lips were red as blood as they glistened damply in Osiris night sight, calling to a mind of hunger that would not be filled in all eternity. That is the hunger of a Hollow.
Gazing at Osiris, the young lady laughed like a silver bell. "Are you some manner of body guard? Hiring a person like you for protection is just the sort of thing a lowly human wretch would do. Having heard from my father that the girl who lives here is not only of a beauty unrivaled by the humans in these parts, but that her soul is equally delectable, I came to see her for myself. But as I expected all along, there is no great difference between between these foolish, annoying little pests."
Paleness rushed into the girl's face. The slight tinge of grayish smoke escaping her hands without warning, which didn't escape Osiris' notice.
"First I shall make a bloody spatter of you, and then I'll drain the humble soul from her till she is nothing but a husk. As you may well know, father is inclined to make her part of our family, but I will not stand by while the blood line is imparted to a good-for-nothing that would stoop to a trick of this sort. I shall strike her from the face of the earth into the waiting arms of the black gods of hell. And you shall accompany her."
As she spoke, the young lady made a sweep of her slender hand. Her driver stepped forward. Murderous intent radiated from every inch of him like flames licking at Osiris' face.
You lowly worms have forgotten your station, his mien seemed to say. Turncoat scum you are, forgetting the you owe your former masters, rebelling against them with your devices and little minds and weapons. Here's where you learn the error of your ways.
The transformation had begun. The molecular arrangement of his cells changed, and his nervous system became that of a wild beast born to race across the ground at great speeds. The four limbs clutching at the earth began to assume a shape more befitting a lower animal. A large jaw formed, and revealed rows of razor-sharp teeth jutting from a crescent-moon mouth that splits his face from ear to ear. Jet-black fur sprouted over every inch of him.
The driver was a werewolf, one of the monsters of the night resurrected from the dark depths of medieval legend along with everything else. Osiris could tell just by watching the transformation, which some even might term graceful, that the driver was not one of the genetically engineered and cybernetic enhanced fakes the Hollows had spread across the world.
A throaty howl blazing with the glee of slaughter split the wordless void. With both eyes glittering wildly, the werewolf lurched up onto his hind feet. This was exactly what made the werewolf a lycanthrope among lycanthropes, for despite its four-footed form, a werewolf's speed and destructive power were greater when it stood erect.
Perhaps taking the fact that the youth had stood still and not moved a muscle since their arrival to mean he was paralyzed with fright, the black beast crouched over so slightly. Trusting its entire weight to powerful springs of its lower body, it leapt over fifteen feet in a single bound.
Two flashes more brilliant than the moonlight split the darkness.
Osiris didn't move. The werewolf, dropping down on Osiris from above with every intention of sinking its iron shredding claws into his skull, changed course in midair. It sailed over Osiris' head as if poised to make another jump, and landed in the bushes a few yards behind the Hunter.
Staged completely in midair, a jump like that was a miraculous maneuver only possibly by coordinating the power of the lungs, the spine, and extremely tenacious muscle toning for a split second, and it was something werewolves alone could do. Even groups of seasoned werewolf hunters occasionally fell victim to attacked like this because the attack was far more terrible than any rumors the might have heard, and they weren't prepared to counter the real thing. These demonic creatures could strike at their prey from angles and directions that were patently impossible as far as three dimensional dynamics were concerned and the attack was entirely silent.
However, moans of pain spilled from the beast's throat as it huddled low in the brush. Bright blood welled from between its fingers pressed against its right side, soaking in the grass. Its eyes. Bloodshot with agony, caught the blade glittering with reflected moonlight in Osiris's right hand as the hunter stood facing it silently. Just as the werewolf was ready to drive its claws home, Osiris had the sword over his shoulder with ungodly speed and driven it into his opponent's flank,
"Impressive," one of them. Strangely, that someone was Osiris, who'd been under the impression that he had cleanly bisected the werewolves torso. "Until now, I'd never seen what a true werewolf is capable of."
His low voice sowed the seeds of a new variety of fear in the heart of demonic beast where it lay in the bushes. The beast's legs could generate bursts of speed of three hundred and seventy miles per hour. Almost half the speed of sound. There had been less than a fifteenth of a second between the time it jumped and its attack on Osiris, which meant the youth had been able to swing his split and split its belly open even faster. Worse yet, the werewolves wound wouldn't close. That wouldn't be so unusual when it was human, but once it assumed the beastly, the cells of a werewolves flesh were like single cell organisms, giving it the regenerative power of a hydra. Cells created more cells, closing wounds instantly. But the blade the werewolf had just felt made regeneration impossible, though it was probably not due to the blade but rather the skill of the youth who wielded it. Skin and muscle tissue that could reject bullets weren't showing any signs of regenerating.
"What's wrong with you, Malak?" the young lady shouted. "In wolf form, you should be unstoppable! Do not make a game of this. I demand you tear this human apart immediately!"
Though he heard his mistress scolding him, the werewolf Malak didn't move, partly because of the wound but also because of the youth's divine skill with a sword. What really tapped the wellspring of horror was the lurid will to kill that gushed from every pore of the youth just before the werewolf could unleash its deadly attack. That hadn't come from any human known.
Is he one of those? A Kiln?
Malak realized he'd finally run into a real opponent.
"Your guard is wounded," Osiris said softly, turning to the young lady. "If he doesn't come at me again, he might live to a ripe old age. You might too. Go home and tell your father a dangerous obstacle has cropped up. And that he'd be a fool to this farm again."
"Silence!" the young lady screamed, her gorgeous visage becoming that of a banshee. "I am Guinevere, daughter of the ruler of the entire Sitka district of the Frontier. Do you think I can be bested by the likes of you and your sword?"
Before she'd finished speaking, a streak of white light shot towards her breast from Osiris' left hand. In fact, it was a foot long needle he'd taken out at some point and thrown faster than the naked eye could follow. It was made of wood. As it traveled at that unfathomable speed, the needle burned from the friction of the air, and the white light was those of flames.
But something odd had happened.
The flames had come to stop in front of Osiris' chest. Not that the needle he'd thrown had simply stopped there. The instant it was about to sink into Guinevere's breast, it had turned around and come back, and Osiris had stopped it with his bare hand. Or to be more accurate, Guinevere had caught the needle with superhuman speed and thrown it back just as quickly. The average person wouldn't even have her hand move.
"If the servant is no more than a servant, still the master is a master. Well done," Osiris murmured, heedless of the flaming needle in his hand or the way it steadily scorched his flesh. "For that display of skill you get my name. I am the hunter Osiris. Remember that, should you live." As he spoke, Osiris sprinted for the young lady without making a sound.
Terror stole into Guinevere's expression. In twinkling, the distance between them closed to where she was within sword's length, and then -
"Awoooooooooooooh!"
A ferocious howl shook the night air, and an indigo flash of light shot from the coachman's perch on the carriage. Osiris dove to the side to dodge it, only able to escape the beam because his superhuman hearing had discern the sound of the laser cannon on the perch swiveling to bear on him. The pierced the hem of his overcoat, igniting it in pale blue flames. Presumably, the cannon was equipped with voice recognition circuit and an electronic targeting system that responded to Malak's howls. Avoiding the flashes of blue that flew with unerring accuracy to wherever he'd gone to dodge the last, Osiris had no choice but to keep twisting through the air.
"Milady, this way!"
He heard Malak's voice up in the driver's seat. There was the sound of a door closing. As Osiris attempted to give chase, another blast, another blast from the laser cannon checked his advance, and the carriage swung around and was swallowed by the darkness.
"I will settle with you another day, wretch, mark my words! You'll not soon forget the wrath of the Hollow!"
Whether he was pleased at having staved off the enemy or perturbed he hadn't managed to put an end to the mistress, Osiris wore no emotion on his face as he rose expressionless from the bushes, the malice-choked parting words of the pair circling him endlessly.